


Summer Cake

by artemisia_HQ



Series: Kagehina Week 2020 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A Week of Kagehina, Day 3: Songs, Disaster Gays, Fluff, Getting Together, Hinata Shouyou's Gay Awakening, KageHina Week 2020, Kageyama is hot and Hinata is just thirsty, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Mild Smut, Rutting, Sex on the Beach, Summer Vacation, Sweaty Shouyou but in a different sense lol, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Very very light like it's there for five seconds tops, awkward confessions, is the literal working title of this, lol not really but like two steps towards that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24772597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisia_HQ/pseuds/artemisia_HQ
Summary: From this angle, Kageyama looks even bigger and broader, and despite the frown on his face and his hair sweeping out to the sides caused by the soft, salty breeze, he looks…he looks good.So good that large beads of sweat just start rolling down the side of Shouyou’s heating face and he immediately looks away.Did the sun just turn up the heat or what?Hinata spends his entire summer vacation feeling 'sick,' and the cause and cure is none other than a certain setter and hisannoyingbeach outfit.Inspired by Taylor Swift's 'Cruel Summer' and DNCE's 'Cake by the Ocean'
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: Kagehina Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787242
Comments: 31
Kudos: 387
Collections: Kagehina Week 2020





	Summer Cake

**Author's Note:**

> We're already halfway through Kagehina week???? Time really flies when you're having fun T^T
> 
> Remember that color page from chapter 357? Yep, the one featuring beach volleyball (sneaky sneaky Furudate) and Kageyama in a sleeveless wet suit and sunglasses, and when I heard Taylor Swift's 'Cruel Summer,' I was like MUHAHAHAHA PERFECT ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ and had the plot all laid out before I even wrote it xD But the smut was a last minute insert, because c'mon, how can I quench the thirst without it. And that's where 'Cake by the Ocean' comes in xD
> 
> Here's Shouyou being literally sweaty over his gayness. Enjoy! ❤

Summer has always been one of Shouyou’s favorite times of the year. There’s his birthday, of course, and the taste of sweet ice popsicles and juicy watermelon, and hearing crickets chirp their rhythmic songs while he and Natsu hunt them down. It means wearing a _yukata_ to a festival, playing games, and eating flavored shaved ice as they watch the fireworks burst color across the clear summer night sky.

And best of all, summer is about playing on the beach; even better if you have your friends to play along with.

But this year’s summer isn’t going the way Shouyou has anticipated, and he doesn’t even know _exactly_ what’s going on. All he knows is that he’s very, very, _very_ sick.

And it’s all stupid Kageyama’s fault.

Ever since he arrived in this private beach resort Takeda-sensei had brought the whole team to after their training camp in Tokyo, Shouyou has been having this prickly warm sensation crawling up his skin, the insides of his gut churning and tumbling, making him dizzy and nauseous, and it only happens whenever Kageyama is around.

“Oi, dumbass. Stop spacing out, we’re heading out to eat lunch.”

 _Correction_ : whenever Kageyama is around wearing his stupid dark blue sleeveless wet suit, showing off his muscled biceps and contouring his stupid well-toned body. He’s seen Kageyama in shorts practically every day, but the one he decided to pair his stupid suit with just seems to flaunt his strong thighs and long legs even more, and it’s just so annoying and it’s making Shouyou flush hot and warm at the sight of Kageyama in that whole ensemble.

It’s a catastrophe.

Said catastrophe is presently scowling down at Shouyou, disturbing his precious moment of tranquility while he sits under a large umbrella. From this angle, Kageyama looks even bigger and broader, and despite the frown on his face and his hair sweeping out to the sides caused by the soft, salty breeze, he looks…

He looks good.

 _So_ good that large beads of sweat just start rolling down the side of Shouyou’s heating face and he immediately looks away.

Did the sun just turn up the heat or what?

“Yeah… sure… uhh... okay, I'll be there in a sec,” he stutters as he wipes his sweltering face with a towel, looking everywhere except at Kageyama.

“Tsk. Hurry up,” Kageyama says, then he’s walking away, and Shouyou just stares at Kageyama’s broad back, gaze roving down his waist, and, _wow_ , he has a really nice bu—

Shouyou blinks. Blinks again. Blinks a hundred more times to tear himself away from that very weird thought, and just to be sure, he dumps his water bottle over his head to wake himself up; only the bottle’s content isn’t actually water, it's soda, and now he’s sticky and gross and frustrated and it’s all stupid Kageyama’s fault that Shouyou has to suffer through lunch feeling icky from head to toe.

Stupid Kageyama and his stupid suit. Why, in the _good name of volleyball_ , did he decide to wear that thing? It’s just unnecessary—unnecessarily skin tight, and it really accentuates his broad back and toned stomach, and... it’s just _unnecessary_ , and even _more_ worrying, why is Shouyou so affected by this?

He first chalks it up to being envious of Kageyama’s physique, practically displaying everything that Shouyou lacks, and if he could have the kind of body Kageyama has, he’d probably be an unstoppable beast on the court.

That must be it, because when they play beach volleyball, Shouyou spends half the time just gawking at Kageyama across the net, staring blatantly at his arms and legs, and Shouyou probably received more balls in his face than with his arms.

But no; he’s knuckled under insecurity about his short stature a couple of times in the past before, and even though he’s gotten over that, he’s familiar with the feeling and it’s not the same at all. It also doesn’t explain why Kageyama in sunglasses has his stomach dropping and heart racing, which is completely unrelated to any volleyball skills.

(Kageyama does look cool in them, but that’s also unrelated.)

Shouyou considers another theory: maybe Kageyama’s beach outfit is carrying some sort of virus that’s only affecting Shouyou, because the other guys don’t seem to be acting any different around Kageyama. That seems completely possible—who knows what kind of new diseases are cropping up these days.

But then he sees Kageyama emerging from the water, _shirtless_ , water trailing down the dips and valleys of his sculpted abs, shaking his head and sending spritz of water flying, one hand coming up to slick his wet hair back. The whole scene played out in extreme slow motion— _oh god_ , another symptom manifested, this sickness is getting worse—and this infuriating image plays in Shouyou’s mind over and over, keeping him awake until the wee hours of the night feeling hot and antsy, his skin roasting like a furnace, while the stupid jerk is sleeping soundly next to him.

Shouyou is coming up short of any other explanation for this mysterious illness that’s gotten hold of him, and it’s only been two days since and he thinks he might be dying. To make things even worse, just Kageyama doing random things is enough to trigger the symptoms. Especially when Kageyama does something remotely nice for him, like making sure Shouyou rehydrates properly when they’re out in the beach playing; or saving him some grilled meat just so they can have an eating contest; or walking Shouyou to the bathroom and waiting for him when Shouyou has to use the toilet in the middle of the night because he's scared to walk down the dark corridor, though Kageyama still grumbles and complain.

It makes Shouyou’s heart flutter inside his chest, a warm and giddy _fuwaaaah_ feeling, and Kageyama being nice and not being a total jerk to Shouyou is actually…kind of…nice. It’s nice.

What’s _not_ nice is having to explain the spontaneous reddening of his face whenever Kageyama gets too close, or when Shouyou completely spaces out thinking about Kageyama’s muscles and how hard and firm they look, and if he could just touch them to confirm this—

And now he’s sprawled on the warm sand, nose stinging and probably bleeding when another ball collides on his face.

“Dumbass Hinata, you _dumbass_!”

 _Yeah_ , Shouyou agrees bitterly in his mind, vaguely aware of the other guys crowding around him asking if he’s okay. _I’m not_ , he wants to tell them. _I’m not okay and I’m a dumbass and I’m probably dying._

He needs to be cured, _stat_ , and he does the only available option left in his hands—ask someone smart to explain this to him. Tsukishima is out; Shouyou just _knows_ the blonde bastard will make fun of him, tell him he’s an idiot, and be as helpful as a deflated ball. So, that only leaves Yachi-san. She’s helped him with complicated math problems and dizzying vocabulary before, surely she can help him with this one.

Shouyou asks for a bit of her time that night, ignoring the waves of ominous aura radiating from Kageyama somewhere behind him after Shouyou rejects his offer to do some tosses before they sleep. He does want to, every part of him screaming to accept, but he has to figure out what the _hell_ is wrong with him first.

“I just feel all hot and _eeeeek_ every time I see them, and my heart is going _babooom_ and _duuuun_ like it’s coming out my chest all _waaaaah_ and it’s _super_ scary, but then my stomach does this weird thing, kinda like a _rolling thunder_ —” he elaborates this with his intelligible hand gestures “—and it feels nice sometimes, like _guwaaaah_. Oh, and there’s just this sparkly thing around them, and sometimes they’re moving _really_ slow, and am I going blind, Yachi-san? What’s wrong with me? Am I _dying_? I can’t die, Yachi-san!” Shouyou rambles in frenzy, and Yachi-san only stares at him bug-eyed and slaw-jacked.

It takes some time for her to recover from Shouyou’s entire spiel. “I—uhm—Hinata-kun,” Yachi-san starts and Shouyou snaps to attention. “I’m not some expert in this kind of thing, but—” she stops, suddenly looking unsure, but Shouyou urges her on with a nod of his head.

Then she drops the bombshell.

“Aren’t those all signs of having a crush?”

And Shouyou’s world explodes to smithereens.

“C-crush?” he stutters, the word sounding foreign and gibberish in his mouth. “Y-you mean—that I—that I am— _I have a crush?!?_ ”

This is worse than dying. This is Armageddon and hell all rolled into one stinky, fiery ball that just hit Shouyou straight in the gut.

Yachi-san is saying something but it’s all warbled nonsense in Shouyou’s ears. With his jelly legs, he wills himself to stand before wobbling away, ignoring calls of his name from behind him.

It’s impossible. He can’t be having gross _lovey-dovey_ feelings for Kageyama of all people. He’s a jerk, and he’s mean to Shouyou half the time and he's always yelling at him and calling him uncreative insults; not to mention his scary, frowny face and psycho smile. The idiot even sleeps with his eyes halfway open, and he drools, too, and there’s just absolutely no way Shouyou has a crush on that dork.

Even though there are times that he finds Kageyama kinda... sort of... cool—especially when he’s playing volleyball. There’s just something in the way those deep blue eyes turn even sharper in concentration, how his slender fingers flex elegantly as he makes a toss, that spinny thing he does before he serves, and how genuinely happy Kageyama looks when he’s on the court. Sometimes, Shouyou wonders, what would Kageyama look like if he’s taken an interest in anything that isn’t volleyball. If those ocean eyes would glimmer in excitement, how his smile would look like, if they’re as beautiful as in the dreams Shouyou has been having lately.

But those are just observations and curiosities, and they mean nothing beyond that. Shouyou has always had an inquisitive nature; it’s not that unusual to notice things about his teammate, and, he supposes, his friend.

That’s right. Kageyama is just a _friend_ , a partner, a teammate—not someone Shouyou should be crushing on. Maybe he’s just imagining all these things happening to him, the summer heat messing with his mind and senses, and Kageyama is just a mere coincidence in the equation since they’re always together.

Shouyou lets out a small, relieved laugh, and he starts to calm down, the erratic pounding in his chest finally subsiding, lungs getting lighter. So, that’s all it was? It’s really just his hyperactive brain getting the best of him again, and he feels sorry for Kageyama for putting the blame on him all this time.

He heads towards the vending machines just outside their rented beach house with the mission to buy Kageyama a drink as an apology. He’s wondering if there’s any milk in there when he sees a tall figure tossing a volleyball just shy away from the machines. Shouyou calls out his name, because who else would it be?

“Kageyama!”

The other boy catches the ball mid-air and turns to face Shouyou with his usual frown. Shouyou waves his hand as he runs, and takes time to catch his breath when he finally comes to a stop.

“Perfect timing, you’re already here!” Shouyou says in between his panting.

“I was waiting for you,” Kageyama says plainly.

Shouyou must have miscalculated the distance of his run because his heart won’t stop hammering.

“Hey, lemme treat you!” He walks towards the vending machine and ponders among the rows and columns of drinks, eyes following his finger in his thorough perusal. There’s no milk, but there’s yogurt, and that should be good enough as an apology gift, and he presses the button twice and feeds it money. The machine rumbles and whirs, and finally spits out their drinks. Shouyou scoops them up and hands one to Kageyama.

“What’s this for?” Kageyama asks suspiciously, but he takes the yogurt box, nonetheless.

Shouyou just smiles and takes a sip on his own drink. “I just feel like it.”

“Hmmmm,” Kageyama hums and joins Shouyou in sipping their drinks in front of the vending machine.

They’re silent for a while, then Kageyama speaks up.

“What did you talk about with Yachi-san?”

Shouyou shrugs. “Nothing. I was just asking her for some stuff,” he says, the straw caught between his teeth slightly muffling his words.

“What stuff?”

“It was something silly. Don’t worry about it.”

Shouyou glances up at Kageyama. He’s already staring back at Shouyou, the light from the vending machine casting an intense glow on half of his face, rendering his every feature sharper and more intense, and those azure eyes seem to pierce right through Shouyou’s very soul.

Then something shifts and Kageyama’s expression turn _soft_ , and it’s unlike any expression Shouyou has seen from his usually scrunched up, frowny face, and Shouyou’s heart begins to kickstart again, a series of _dun dun dun_ that’s getting louder and faster which each passing second.

“Thanks for the drink,” Kageyama says.

The thunderous beating inside Shouyou’s chest stops, every physiological function in him just stops at the sight of those pursed lips curling upward, transforming into a small, soft smile, and Shouyou thinks, he’s never seen anything nearly as beautiful.

And with that comes the cruel realization.

_I’m a dumbass and I’m so screwed._

* * *

After the revelation of last night, Shouyou has accepted his fate that he’d either die succumbing to the torture of keeping his little _‘secret’_ or Kageyama would find out and he’ll kill him, and Shouyou doesn’t know which is the worse way to go.

Okay, he lied, he hasn’t fully accepted it yet. He still has very definite volleyball plans he’s determined to fulfill, and a good chunk of those involve Kageyama, and how can he carry those plans out if he is— _oh god, why him_ —in _love_ with his jerk of a partner.

He can’t just betray Kageyama’s trust like that, he doesn’t want to singlehandedly destroy the partnership they’ve built over the time they’ve started playing together. He doesn’t want things to be awkward and weird just because he wants to kiss stupid Kageyama’s stupid face. Not that he would, but that seems to be the reason for all the feverish burning of his skin and painful pounding in his chest—among other things he is still not prepared to acknowledge.

Kageyama is his friend, and he’s sure Kageyama only sees him as just that. And if he has to keep a considerable distance between them to protect and preserve that friendship, he will. Maybe this whole crush thing is just a cause-effect of the fact that they’re joined by the hip day in and out, and maybe creating some space would erase these feelings like it was never there in the first place.

Shouyou sets his plan into motion. He limits the time he spends with Kageyama, avoids situations of them being alone, even declines his offers of competitions and challenges, and it is so, _so_ hard resisting his instinct to say _‘yes’_ to Kageyama. But he has to, needs to, even as Kageyama presents him a big watermelon and challenges Shouyou to a seed-spitting contest, grinning dumbly in excitement, and all Shouyou can do is look away and murmur some excuse that he can’t, and he walks off, leaving Kageyama and his watermelon, and a part of Shouyou that wilted at the disappointed frown on Kageyama’s face.

Even playing volleyball with Kageyama is proving to be difficult. Shouyou is just too hyperconscious of Kageyama’s presence on the court, and not in the good volleyball kind of way. He’d rather team up with either Noya-san or Tanaka-san, even Yachi-san sometimes—anyone would do, just not Kageyama. And that’s not good at all; if he’s too lost in his own head drifting amidst unwarranted thoughts about how good Kageyama looks with a glossy sheen of sweat slicking his entire body to even play properly with him, much less get in sync like they used to, then that’s all the more reason to decimate all these wretched feelings before they can ruin things even more.

It’s their last night on the resort and Shouyou realizes forlornly that he spends half the time of his vacation feeling confused and scared to death of some mysterious _‘illness’_ he caught, then the other half feeling miserable and frustrated dealing with the _‘diagnosis’_ of that cursed disease.

He stares up at the clear starry sky, leaning over on the balcony of their beach house, letting the cool, salty breeze hit his face. He takes a deep inhale, holds it, and releases it into one big shaky sigh, wondering what in the world did he do to anger the universe for him to end up in this poophole.

He’s still immersed in this deep pondering when he feels someone by his periphery, a shadow befalling over him, and there he is, there’s the big, bad poop, the _king of poops_ of the said poophole. Shouyou glares up menacingly at the sky—it just glimmers and twinkles back at him as if mocking him—before turning to face the other boy.

He smiles the most radiant smile he can muster. “Hey, Kageyama-kun! Can’t sleep either?”

Kageyama just squints his eyes at him, lips pursed into that frowny-pouty thing he does, and out of all the hundred other things about Kageyama that drives Shouyou to the brink of insanity these past few days (or the last year or so if he’s really being honest about it), why is this dumb, dorky expression on dumb, dorky Kageyama makes Shouyou want to blurt the horrible truth out just to get it over and done with.

And he’s actually considering it, the words hanging dangerously on the tip of his tongue, but then—

“Tsk. Because it’s so fucking hot,” Kageyama grumbles, and without any other preamble, he lifts his shirt off his head, and Shouyou swears he did the whole act slower than he actually needs to, and now Shouyou is front and center with Kageyama’s bare chest and well-defined abs glistening with sweat, hip bone jutting out teasingly over the waistband of his shorts.

Before his ogling eyes can go down any further, he suddenly stills, his whole body running cold like someone just dropped a bucket of ice over his head, and for a minute or maybe an entire century, he just stands there, bug eyes staring openly and stupidly. Then with his trembling legs, he takes a step back, and another, and another, and he pivots, ready to run far, far, f _ar_ away from here.

He only gets as far as the last step of the stairs of the beach house when a hand circles tight around his wrist and yanks him back. Before he has time to process anything, he’s being spun around bodily, his back slamming hard against the wooden planks. A menacing, dark figure towers over him, and when he tries to slip away, two arms shoot out to flank both of his sides, effectively cutting off his escape. Shouyou whimpers.

“What the hell—” Kageyama growls, face edging closer to Shouyou, and Shouyou scrunches his eyes tight, wishing with all his might that he can phase through the wall to avoid his impending death “—is your fucking deal, dumbass?!”

Shouyou flinches but doesn’t dare move any more from where’s looking down on the sand beneath them. He can hear Kageyama’s heavy breathing, can see his abdomen heaving and rippling, beads of sweat cascading down the chiseled grooves, and Shouyou tucks his head against his chin even more.

“Look at me.”

Shouyou shakes his head.

“Look. At. Me,” Kageyama spits through gritted teeth and Shouyou shakes his head even more.

“N-No,” he rasps.

He hears a growl and Shouyou prepares himself for the yelling and insults, but it doesn’t come. What comes next instead is a deep, resigned exhale, and a voice so small and laced with unmistakable hurt,

“Did I do something wrong?”

Shouyou whips his head up, and he can feel his heart crumble.

Kageyama looks so lost and unsure, so unlike the confident and self-assured person Shouyou has come to know. He’s trembling, shuddering with each ragged breath that comes out of him like he’s trying to hold something back, face increasingly getting redder at the effort.

“Kageyama—” Shouyou chokes out.

“Tell me, Hinata,” Kageyama interrupts, voice shaky, and it’s so unnerving; Kageyama shouldn’t be like this, he shouldn’t be looking and sounding so vulnerable and lost and… broken.

“Tell me. Because I am so fucking lost here. I’m so fucking lost why you just stopped hanging out with me and avoid me to the point that you won’t even play with me!” Kageyama roars, neck straining in his outbursts, breathing hard and gravelly. “Tell me what I did because I have no fucking clue and I can’t—I can’t—you can’t—dammit!”

And that is the last straw. All of Shouyou’s resolve just disintegrates into nothing but dust at the realization that in the process of protecting himself, he’s breaking another person, and his stomach churns in guilt and shame.

“Kageyama!” Hinata cries, startling the other boy. “I-It’s not like that! You didn’t do anything, okay? It’s—” His frantic voice falters for a second “—it’s me. It’s my fault. You did nothing wrong.”

Some of that misplaced distress etching Kageyama’s face fades, and Shouyou’s chest swells with relief, but it squeezes tight again when Kageyama asks the horrible question Shouyou has been dreading.

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

Shouyou winces, as if the question physically stabs him. He sucks in what could possibly be his very last breath, and blurts out, “BECAUSE YOU’RE SO COOL AND HOT AND I’M SO CONFUSED AND FEELING ALL _GUWAAAAAH_ AND I THINK I LIKE YOU, OKAY?!?!”

He holds his gaze on those deep blue eyes, even as his body shakes in an unpleasant mix of fear and mortification, face and neck flaming, burning red.

“Y-You… like me… how?” Kageyama finally manages to breathe out, face contorting into a look of utter confusion, and now it’s Shouyou turn to blink owlishly at him.

“Seriously? Of all the stupid—I _like_ like you, you jerk!” Shouyou yells at Kageyama’s face, but the pinched expression on his face twists even more. Shouyou groans. This dumb idiot. “Like, you know, _guwaaaah_ , and—and—and like—”

The wires in his head must have short-circuited, or maybe he has a secret death wish, because there’s absolutely no possible explanation why he stands on his tiptoes, leans forward as he closes his eyes, and silently sends a farewell message to his mom and Natsu, how much he loves them, and he hopes they honor his memory, how he’s going to miss them so much—

How warm and soft the sensation in his lips is, how they feel them quiver as it brushes delicately over his chapped ones, how his heart feels like bursting out of his chest, stomach fluttering fitfully and wildly, and he wants to taste more of it.

But just when he’s starting to cave in into that _fuwaaaah_ feeling, his eyes snap open and he pulls his face back.

Blue eyes blink at him.

Shouyou blinks back. “L-like that,” he says stupidly, voice cracking.

Kageyama is just staring dumbly at him, eyes wide in understandable shock, and his lips part soundlessly—the lips where Shouyou’s own had been—and the full cognizance of what he just did finally crashes on him.

He’s dead.

When Kageyama leans forward, Shouyou shuts his eyes tight, and as one final desperate plea for mercy, he whimpers, “Make it quick.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Kageyama sneers, and Shouyou chokes back a pitiful sob and braces for impact.

Of all the things that Shouyou would describe Kageyama, gentle would be on the bottom of the list. Yet, that’s the first word that passes through his mind, and he feels it, too, as Kageyama presses his lips against Shouyou, tenderly, softy, before it pushes with eagerness, firmer, more sure. A hand slips on the back of Shouyou’s hair, drawing him closer until he’s up and against Kageyama’s bare chest, and his own hand flies up to rest on the other’s arm, gripping tight. Kageyama parts his lips to lock with Shouyou’s with graceless finesse and Shouyou makes some dumb whimpering noise, but Kageyama muffles it by increasing the pressure between their lips, titling Shouyou’s head where he wants it to be.

It’s a clumsy, awkward movement, but to Shouyou it feels like the most perfect thing in the world, comparable to that soaring, warm feeling when he flies on the court, yet still strikingly different. Good different—so, _so_ good, and he wonders if he actually died and he’s in heaven.

But then they part, and Shouyou’s eyes take time to flutter open, his mouth still slightly puckered. When his hazy mind and sight finally decide to function normally, he’s first greeted by scarlet red cheeks and a wobbly smile.

“I like you, too. Like that,” Kageyama says, almost like a whisper.

The hand still on the back of Shouyou’s head slides to cradle his face instead, and Kageyama’s angling forward again, and Shouyou does the complete opposite of what his instincts are telling him to do because he’s that big of an idiot.

He runs.

And Kageyama runs after him. Of course.

He pumps his legs faster, his feet kicking off the sand, but he doesn’t get that much further when he feels himself go airborne, a very heavy weight settling over his middle, tackling him down. Both of their momenta send them rolling and tumbling in the cool, gritty sand, hands and feet ensnared together like they're some kind of human crab thing.

Shouyou ends up on his back and he winces as he props himself up, wiping clumps of sand off his face, and he’s about to get up and bolt again when Kageyama straddles his lap and pins his arms to his sides.

Shouyou squirms and trashes against the vise-like grip. “Lemme go!” he cries. “Stupid Kageyama! Lemme go lemme go lemme go!”

“Stop—just stop struggling—ow—stop!”

“No! Lemme go! _Bakageyama_ —lemme go!”

Kageyama growls and pushes him back down even harder on the sand. “Shut up! Just shut up for a minute!”

Shouyou does shut up, throat scratchy and dry from all his shouting. His body goes limp and useless, all the energy and fight drained out of him. The tell-tale signs of tears prickle on the corner of his eyes and he shifts his head to the side.

“Hinata. Look this way.”

Shouyou answers him with a pathetic noise; perfect representation of what he feels right now.

“Tsk. Stop being a stubborn dumbass and look at me.”

With a resigned sigh, he turns his head to face Kageyama. He’s looking down at Shouyou calmly, his silky hair ruffled by the sea breeze. He’s shivering a little; it is a bit cold and he’s shirtless, traces of sand blotching his torso, and Shouyou suddenly just wants to warm and bundle him up and because it would take a toll on his conscience if Kageyama gets sick.

“Why did you run?” Kageyama asks.

Shouyou sniffs. “Because you’re making fun of me.” He finally lets his anger boil over and shouts, “You’re just making fun of me and it’s not funny! It would’ve been much better if you just punched me in the nose because that would hurt a lot less!”

Blue eyes widen at him, then it narrows to a glare. “I kissed you and told you I like you and you think I’m making fun of you?” Kageyama shouts back, tightening his grip on Shouyou’s arms even more. “And you kissed me back!”

“Of course, I did! When the person you like kisses you, you kiss back!” Shouyou counters.

“There’s your fucking explanation, dumbass! When the person you like kisses you—” The tight clasp on Shouyou’s arms loosens, slowly gliding to twine long fingers over Shouyou’s shorter ones.

“You kiss them back,” Kageyama finishes, and then he closes the gap between their faces to do just that.

Kageyama presses their lips as gently as he did earlier, caressing Shouyou’s lips with feather-like softness that Shouyou melts into. A pleased moan slips past before he can stop it, and that seems to flip a switch in Kageyama because in the next second, he’s kissing him more fervently, tongue darting out to lick on the seams of his lips, and Shouyou lets him through, yielding.

The moment their tongues make contact and slide together, electricity travels up and down his spine, the warm, fizzy sensation firing every nerve in his body to life. A string of saliva connects their lips when they part, both of them gasping in hot breath, and that should be gross, but that’s far from what Shouyou is feeling right now.

“I like you, dumbasss. Was that clear enough for you?” Kageyama says, and Shouyou only has time to nod once before Kageyama surges forward again, and Shouyou is only too eager to welcome that hot, wet mouth back to his.

He’s making these embarrassing noises that he can’t seem to control, and it only rises in pitch when Kageyama starts mouthing on his neck, and every lick and suck sends a lightning strike of pleasure coursing through his entire body, and he can feel his lower half reacting to it. Kageyama presses against him more firmly, hips rolling down to meet Shouyou’s, and— _oh_ , Kageyama is reacting, too, and they both breathe out a sharp gasp when Kageyama drives his hips down the same time Shouyou cants his own up.

He unclasps his hands from Kageyama’s to fling them around his neck. Kageyama has ideas of his own as his one arm tucks underneath Shouyou to hold him closer, the other by his waist to guide Shouyou’s hips, and they fall into this frenetic pace of uncoordinated rolls and thrusts.

“K-Kageyama—” Shouyou whines, greedy hands kneading the firm muscles under his touch, and he can feel them flex and ripple with Kageyama’s every movement. His mouth is still pressing bruising kisses and nips on Shouyou’s collarbone, then works his way up to smatter Shouyou’s cheeks with soft kisses that kind of tickles, and he giggles, only for the sound to be muffled when Kageyama captures his lips again, and again, only parting for a short second to catch their breaths.

“Ah— _Kage_ —ah— _ngh_ —”

Their words are nothing but incoherent garbles, as they finally find the right angle, the right rhythm, and it feels _oh so right_ , being trapped under Kageyama’s stupid, beautiful body like this, undulating frantically against Shouyou—the very same body that has driven him to total hysteria these past few days. He can feel how much this is affecting him, how much it’s affecting Kageyama, how hard and solid and _big_ he is against him through the thin fabric of his shorts, and Shouyou twitches, vibrates, at the immense pleasure overwhelming his entire body.

For one fleeting second, he’s aware of the fact that they’re outside, that they’re covered in sand, that the salty waves are seeping wet through his shirt and back, and _oh_ —those are not the only things getting wet with the way Kageyama moves with great desperation and intensity against him.

“Hinata,” Kageyama pants, his raspy voice making Shouyou shiver uncontrollably. He kisses him all over his face, interspersed with whispers of his name. “Hinata—you feel—you feel so—so good.”

“I— _ngh_ —K-Kageyama—you—too,” Shouyou responds in tattered breaths.

“Ah— _shit_ —H-Hinata—”

"—yama—Kageya—I'm—I'm—"

His arms wrap around Kageyama’s broad shoulders as tight as he can, nails digging on the sweaty skin as their pace escalates into a frenzy, pants becoming heavy and shallow. He hears Kageyama groan on his neck, murmuring his name, and sparks burn under Shouyou’s skin, concentrating and pooling on his stomach. When Kageyama gives a particularly hard thrust down, just as he licks a stripe up Shouyou’s neck, the sparks burst into fireworks, a hundred thousand colors dancing behind Shouyou’s eyelids.

His one last thought before he drifts, is he’s never seen or felt fireworks as awesome and _guwaaaaah_ like this.

* * *

“I still can’t believe that you passed out after you came,” Kageyama jeers and Shouyou scowls up at him from where his head is lodged on the other’s shoulder.

“I can’t help it! It was too intense and I was overwhelmed!” he reasons, and when Kageyama smirks at him, he makes a face and sticks his tongue out.

Kageyama mirrors his expression, and then draws Shouyou closer to him, as if that will make any sort of difference since they’re basically occupying the same space from where they’re lying on their futons.

It’s a bit humid, not exactly a conducive ambiance for cuddling, and Shouyou is starting to sweat due to the combined warmth of their body heat. Yet he can't seem to come up with any other reason aside from that minor detail to pull himself away, when being this close to Kageyama and hearing his steady breathing feels _oh so right._

“Hey,” Shouyou says softly, fingers tracing the kanji on Kageyama’s _‘setter soul’_ t-shirt.

“Hmm?”

“What do you like about me?”

Shouyou can feel how Kageyama’s heart slightly quickens pace under his touch, bringing an unbidden smile to his lips.

“Like how?”

“Like physically.”

Kageyama seems to ponder the question for a while. “I guess… your hair?” He punctuates this with a gentle stroke on Shouyou’s hair, untangling his messy curls. “Even though it looks stupid.”

Shouyou slaps Kageyama’s chest with the back of his hand. “That makes _you_ stupid because you like it,” he teases.

“Shut up.”

He lightly pinches Kageyama's arm in retaliation. “What else do you like?” he presses.

Kageyama sighs, fingers carding through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. “Hmm… I don’t know. Your stupid, round eyes. And that stupid, loud mouth. And—”

There’s a long pause and Shouyou shifts and wiggles so he can look up at Kageyama. “And?” he urges.

Color blooms distinctly on Kageyama’s cheeks. “And just all of you I guess,” he mumbles.

“Really?” Shouyou doesn't even try to hide the giddiness in his voice, or the stupid smile on his lips.

“Yes, dumbass. Now can we go to sleep? We’re supposed to wake up early tomorrow for the ride home.”

“M’okay,” he relents, and he shifts further down, and throws an arm over Kageyama's stomach, cheek nuzzling against his warm, broad chest, inhaling his scent. A strong arm wraps around him, too, and he feels a comforting weight settle by his hair.

Out of all the different scenarios Shouyou has imagined for the last night of his summer vacation to be, this is definitely not included in those. In fact, nothing about this entire vacation had gone as he’d anticipated it; it’s just one big, confusing tidal wave he unknowingly got himself into. He’s been thrown haphazardly by the crashing waves of revelations and discoveries; things that he supposes has long been there even before this vacation starts, he just never really noticed or paid any attention to it.

Kageyama is hot, he admits that now, and he’s cool and awesome, and his ridiculously fit physique still infuriates Shouyou like nothing ever did, but it’s not just the superficial things Shouyou appreciates and likes.

Kageyama is cool, especially when he’s playing volleyball. He’s awesome when he makes a perfect toss, when he serves, when he tells Shouyou that he’s invincible as long as he’s around.

But he’s also dumb and dorky, like when he eats, he just inhales the food and always ends up choking. And he’s kind, too, in his own grumpy way. And honest, and passionate, and driven, and a whole lot of things Shouyou is too sleepy to elaborate, what with the satisfying warmth enveloping him, and he likes _this_ , too. Likes it a whole lot.

“I guess I like all of you, too,” he whispers, curling even further into that cozy warmth, eyes fluttering close.

“Huh. Is that why you kept looking at my butt?”

Shouyou’s hand maneuvers to squeeze said butt as confirmation and to shut that mouth up.

**Author's Note:**

> When will I write Kageyama thirsting for Beach Babe™ Hinata you ask? Very, very, very soon ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
> 
> ***
> 
> I love getting feedbacks, and they motivate me tremendously, so drop them in the comments! Kudos are also appreciated :) Thank you for reading! ♥️
> 
> scream about kagehina or hq in general with me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/artemisia_hq?s=09) or [tumblr](https://artemisia--hq.tumblr.com)
> 
> i have more self-indulgent kagehinas in a mixed bag of fluff, smut, and everything in between [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisia_HQ/works)


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